The 100; a panfandom game

WILL GRAHAM:

We should talk.

I don't know how you guys handled it in space. Stuck inside for three days, and I'm ready to jump out of my skin. My hat's off to you.

CLARKE GRIFFIN:

What can I do to help?

Dealing with loss and bloodshed and all the rest that comes with danger and fighting — fear, adrenaline, injury, and so on — isn't easy. It's especially not easy when we're cooped up like this. At home, my brother and I just kept moving, distracting ourselves with the next job and the next.

I'm not going to say that's the healthiest coping strategy, but it worked for us. And it's my first instinct to run away from things rather than try to deal with them, but we can't, because we're stuck here. In multiple different ways, because of the storm, because we can't get back to our own worlds, and so on.

Trying to deal with it all on my own isn't really doing me much good, either. I know I'm not the only one, so I was thinking — after dinner, in the mess hall, maybe we can all just sit together for a minute. Anyone who wants to speak can do that, or we can just have a sort of silent vigil. For anything and everything that's on our minds right now.

I'll be there, for anyone who wants to join me. And for anyone who can't make it — if you're in the hospital, or for any other reason — maybe we can come to you, for a little bit. Let me know if that's something you're interested in.

CHATTY TO ANGEL:

» Really?
» That your idea of a little worried or a little stalker?

REMUS LUPIN:

Hey, I need your help with something.

anyone want the arsebiscuit who let the werewolf out?


'cause he's in a pit with an arrow in his knee.

You're all coming with me. To Sam Winchester's thing

No arguing. We need this too.

I missed all the interesting shit.

Next time a mission includes camping, pass me right over.

So, after talking to the doctors, it looks like my arm won't be getting much better. My fingers barely twitch.

I've seen some the prosthesis that you have here and done some reading while I was stuck in bed, and I had an idea. The staff I had with me when I was taken channels my magic; it's forged from a veil-touched metal from the Frostback Basin. If I offered it as a material, could someone use it as part of a prosthetic?

I feel like it's my responsibility to say something.

[...] My name is Remus Lupin, if you haven't met me. I've been a werewolf since I was four years old. More people know about this than I realise, because my private life isn't as private as I'd prefer.

When I first got here in April, I spent the full moon outdoors instead of being contained. We I was attacked by mountain lions, and in the fight that followed I ended up finding and attacking one of the Grounders. I lost track of him, and my memories are fuzzy, but I bit him.

I didn't tell anyone, not until a werewolf killed a Grounder village. [...] The situation here is my fault, and after the werewolf escaped the cells tonight I tried to run. But I can't in good conscience run anymore, and I feel it isn't fair to keep lying to so many of you and pretend that this isn't my fault.

I'm sorry. I am so sorry for what's happened and for the violence I've inadvertently caused. The people in charge here have known about this for a while, but I'm lying to everyone else and acting like I'm not responsible. I know apologies mean nothing, and I'll assist in whatever way I can, or deal with any punishment you see fit.


JAMES + LILY POTTER, SIRIUS BLACK, PETER PETTIGREW:

So there's that.

FELIX DAWKINS:

We can't do this anymore
I can't
I don't know if I can keep doing this with you.

I'm really, really bloody glad that Mount Weather was still here when we got back. I was half-afraid it was going to be leveled by the hurricane.


I don't suppose that there's anyone here who might have an idea about how a bloke would tan and preserve a hide?

I always seem to arrive at places at the most inconvenient times. Although Mrs. Thomas couldn't ever really claim that I was inconvenient, not when I helped with three sets of twins. She tried, but it was always a lie. I understand that there has been some tragedy in this community recently, and I'm so sorry to hear it. I know my condolences don't mean much, but they're out in the open for the public to see, anyway.

I'm Mrs. Anne Blythe, and I don't suppose that Dr. Gilbert Blythe is here? The doctors in the medical center said he wasn't, but it never hurts to ask, does it? Maybe he arrived in the moments after I came to the room that was assigned to me? He's my husband and we haven't been married very long and I miss him so much already. I'm still getting used to being called Mrs. Blythe, that's how new it is. I was in the general store the other day in Glen St. Mary, and the storekeeper addressed me as Mrs. Blythe and I thought for sure that Gil's mother had followed me in. But, it was me!

Or if you want to tell me that this is a dream and that I'll wake up soon, I would like that, as well. Please someone tell me I'm dreaming?